Sea Spell (Waterfire Saga #4)(7)

Astrid tried one last time. Putting both hands on the glass, she closed her eyes. “I want…” she started to say, searching for the right words.

And then, sudden and unbidden, they came. From the deepest part of her heart.

“I want my magic back.”

An instant later, she was tumbling headfirst through the mirror.





“AND THEN the ship hit the rocks and broke into a million pieces!” trilled the mermaid Laktara.

She threw her head back and laughed. The sound was musical and beguiling, every bit as beguiling as her beautiful face, her green eyes, and the thick auburn tresses that cascaded down her back.

“Tell me the rest of the story, Tara!” Lucia Volnero called out from her dressing room, where she was changing into a gown.

But Laktara was laughing so hard, she couldn’t speak. Falla, her sister, had to finish the story.

“It wasn’t just any ship we destroyed,” Falla said, giggling herself. “It was a cruise ship. There were a thousand goggs aboard. They threw themselves over the railing—splish, splash, sploosh—to get to us!”

Vola, a third sister, was laughing, too. “Of course, the closer they came, the farther away we swam, until they were ab-so-lute-ly exhausted! Even as they drowned, they were still reaching for us. Darling, you’ve never seen anything funnier!”

“Or sampled anything tastier!” Falla whispered.

“Falla, you naughty thing! Hush!” Vola scolded.

Falla said, “Sorry!”

Laktara snorted. “No, you’re not.”

“I am,” Vola insisted. Then, in a mischievous whisper, she added, “I’m sorry I didn’t kill more of them!”

The three sisters dissolved into helpless giggles, and Lucia joined them. They were her distant cousins, her good friends—and sirens, though publicly they denied it.

Sirens sang for currensea. Some even sang for the goggs. Stories were told of secret concerts held in Venetian palazzos for which the singers were paid in jewels.

Rumor had it that sirens ate their kills, but Lucia dismissed the gossip. Oh, her cousins might joke about it, but she was quite certain they only did so to shock. Though she had to admit that, every now and then, when the illusio spells the three sisters continually spun flickered and faded, Lucia could see that their pearly teeth were sharper than she’d thought, their crimson nails longer, their eyes colder.

The sisters, who looked very much alike, lived in the waters off the coast of Greece. Lucia had invited them to Cerulea because she had news she wanted to share. They’d arrived an hour ago. Lucia had hurried them to her rooms, had sweets and tea brought, and then asked them to give their opinions on a selection of gowns.

She swam out from behind the screen now in a clingy pale green sea-silk dress embroidered with seed pearls. Her blue-black hair swirled around her shoulders. Her sapphire eyes appraised her reflection in a mirror.

“Well?”

Falla wrinkled her nose. Vola shook her head. “Nothing special,” Laktara said with a sniff.

Lucia snapped her fingers, and her maid brought her another gown. It met with a similar reaction. So did the one that followed it. Lucia, growing frustrated, tried on a fourth.

“What about this one?” she asked as she swam to the center of the room and twirled around.

The gown was made of thousands of sliver-thin slices of emerald stitched onto a sheath of dark green sea silk. The jewels overlapped like fish scales. They caught the light and held it. Lucia’s tiniest movement made the entire gown sparkle.

“I love it!” Vola declared.

Laktara agreed, but Falla asked, “Why the fashion show, Luce? Is there a ball coming up? Is that why you invited us here?”

Lucia sat down with her cousins. She looked at each in turn, then said, “You’ve just helped me pick my wedding dress. I haven’t told anyone else yet, but I’m going to move the date of the ceremony up.”

Vola arched an eyebrow. “Harpoon wedding, darling?” she asked with a smirk.

Lucia rolled her eyes. “Get your mind out of the abyss, please.”

“Does the groom know?” asked Falla.

“I haven’t told him yet. He’s away with his troops patrolling the western border. It’s going to be a surprise,” Lucia lied. “He’s been begging me to move the date up. He’s head over tail in love, so why wait any longer? We’ll marry in less than two moons’ time, when there’s a syzygy.”

“Why wait that long?” Vola asked.

“I don’t have a choice. Miromaran royal weddings have to take place during a syzygy, when the sun, earth, and moon are aligned. The tides are at their highest then, and magic’s at its strongest. It’s the law, and unfortunately, there’s nothing I can do about it. That’s why I invited you here. To ask you to be my bridesmaids.”

Vola squealed. Falla hugged Lucia.

And Laktara held up a hand. “Just a minute! Before I commit, I need to know what the dresses look like.”

When Lucia assured her that all three bridesmaid gowns would be made from sea silk and mother-of-pearl and would be almost as beautiful as her own, Laktara agreed. There were more hugs and kisses, and then Lucia suggested that her cousins retire to the chambers her maids had prepared for them.

“You’ve had a long journey. I’m sure you’ll want to rest for a bit, then freshen up before dinner,” she said, affecting concern.